


Kinship

by HopeCoppice



Series: Notches [4]
Category: Young Dracula
Genre: Gen, Pre-Canon, dustbath
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-07
Updated: 2016-09-07
Packaged: 2018-08-13 18:57:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7982572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HopeCoppice/pseuds/HopeCoppice
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bertrand du Fortunesa has another so-called Chosen One to investigate. Well, actually... this time it's two - and there can only be one.</p>
<p>Chronologically speaking, this is the second Notch. (Post order 4/7)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kinship

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, all. Long time, no see. This one was just niggling at me. Unbeta'd so apologies for any mistakes.

Bertrand had a bad feeling about this assignment.

 

After the bitter disappointment of meeting Waldemar, the pretender to the Praedictum Impaver, and wiping him from the face of the earth, he had hoped that the next claimant would be more straightforward to deal with; more respectful; more _genuine_. The summons he'd received, however, were not promising.

 

The Anghelescu clan were an old family, but barely considered nobility by the vampiric elite. Their estates in Transylvania sprawled across the less prosperous parts of the region, but they needed the vast amounts of space to accommodate their numbers. For centuries they had stood as a united clan, with only the occasional squabble between factions. Now, that looked set to change.

 

Bertrand was approaching the heart of Anghelescu territory to assess the separate claims of a pair of brothers. Each claimed to be the Chosen One, both described dreams of glory and heightened powers.

_I do not wish to hurt my brother by disproving his claim through combat,_ the older brother had written, _so I can only ask that you give us both the same chance to prove ourselves. The true Chosen One will soon become apparent._

The younger brother had written, too.

_Even as the Chosen One, I do not intend to usurp my brother's place as head of the clan. I hardly think that I will have the time to rule over one clan with the vampiric world to lead! So while I understand those of my supporters who urge me to kill my rival and be done with it, for the good of my family I would rather settle this by other means._

Bertrand rather doubted that it would all end so cleanly, but he truly hoped that it would. At any rate, whichever of these brothers turned out to be the true Chosen One would have his support. He might resent his dead sire's orders, but it suited him best to follow them for now. _Find the Chosen One._ Not to bring him back to his sire – he had rendered that impossible himself, with great relish – but to make himself invaluable to him, to stand beside him as he ruled over the world. Standing at the Chosen One's side, Bertrand would never be abused or vulnerable again.

* * *

Bertrand heard the gathering in the hall before he saw it; upon entering the room, the cause of the commotion became clear. The Anghelescu clan, in its entirety, seemed to be packed in, every member of the family waiting for the moment of truth and bickering over the result in the meantime. He followed the elder who'd met him into the centre of the room and paused, taking in the scene. Young vampires waved little gleaming metal swords at one another around the edges of the room, while the adults all seemed to be wearing scabbards with wooden hilts protruding from the tops; clearly, this was a moment of serious contention for the clan. Whatever the two brothers had professed in their letters, peace didn't seem to be the main goal at the moment. The elder was shouting for quiet, but he was far from the only one shouting, and at last he threw up his hands and disappeared into the crowd to search for the brothers themselves. Bertrand let him go and stood, still and silent as a stone, exactly where he had been left. If there was one thing that drew attention in a room such as this one, it was a single point of calm and a steely gaze. Sure enough, vampires began to look round and, noticing the quiet, solemn stranger in their midst, turned to see what he would do. Fights were abandoned and quarrels forgotten for a moment as the clan, as one, faced the young vampire who would determine their future.

“My name is Bertrand du Fortunesa,” he announced to the hushed crowd, “and I am the guardian of the Praedictum Impaver. Anyone who lays claim to the Book must face me to be tested.” There was a hushed pause; perhaps the would-be claimants were having second thoughts. But then the elder returned from the depths of the crowd with a young, strong vampire on either side.

“Augustin, Ciprian, may I present Bertrand du Fortunesa, keeper of the Book.”

“Bertrand – may I call you Bertrand? - it is an honour to have you with us.” The older of the two stepped forward. Bertrand bowed, allowing the familiar term of address to pass. “I am Augustin, heir of clan Anghelescu. My father is somewhere in the throng, keeping what order he can.”

“He's doing great. Ciprian,” the younger man added by way of introduction, “good to meet you. How do we get this done, then?”

“Perhaps you would prefer to take this somewhere more private?” But Bertrand knew even before he finished speaking that it wouldn't be an option – tensions were riding too high, and too much rested on the transparency of this test.

“No, no. Whatever it is, we can do it here.”

“It's nothing strenuous. The Book will recognise the Chosen One. But one of you will have to go first.”

“The order of succession seems most proper...” That was the elder's suggestion, but Ciprian nodded.

“Yes, age before beauty. Save the best until last.” He flashed a grin at his brother, and Augustin returned it with an indulgent sigh.

“Anything you say. Better step back a bit, then.”

  
  


Every eye in the room was fixed upon Bertrand as he produced the Praedictum Impaver and held it out.

“Just touch it.”

Augustin reached out and rested a hand on the ancient cover, and the assembled vampires waited in anticipation as seconds stretched out far beyond their usual span... Nothing happened. Bertrand opened his mouth to speak, but Augustin beat him to it, cutting off the beginning of some disappointed muttering from his supporters.

“Oh, well. I suppose that's that. Thank you, Bertrand. Good luck, little brother.”

Then he turned and walked away, to stand beside the elder who'd been overseeing it all. Bertrand was taken aback, but relieved; he hadn't enjoyed dusting Waldemar, wouldn't have done it if the man hadn't treated him so abysmally. It was nice to think that he might not have to do it again.

Ciprian took his brother's place in front of the Book, reached out and laid a hand on it... to no more effect than Augustin had had. Bertrand tried to take it back, but Ciprian's fingers tightened on the worn skin of the cover.

“Work. _Work_. You have to-”

“I'm sorry.” Ciprian took a deep breath he didn't need, and let go.

“No, I should apologise. I-”

  
  


“ _You!_ You rigged the whole thing. You want to keep it for yourself!” The cry came from somewhere in the crowd, and suddenly a man was surging forward, wooden sword drawn. Bertrand was too busy securing the Book in his bag to react in time – but Ciprian raised his own sword and met his cousin's attack, turning the point of the blade away from their guest.

“Nonsense. There must have been another reason for the dreams. We should research-”

“Let us at him, or your son dies!” Another vampire, on the other side of the room, had the little boy in a headlock. Ciprian hesitated for a moment, clearly doubting that the other man would go through with it – but he hesitated for an instant too long and a horrible snap of bone echoed through the room.

“ _No!_ ” Ciprian's cry of despair was swallowed in the chaos as the whole room began to tear itself apart. Bertrand saw children slaughtered, men and women, brothers and sisters attacking one another. Augustin and Ciprian stood back-to-back, covering for one another's weaknesses with the practiced ease of regular sparring partners, trying to make their way towards their father and a pair of terrified youngsters that must be Augustin's children. Bertrand tried to fight his way across the room with them, but many of the vampires present seemed to blame him for the events and disappointments of the night. Worse, dawn had crept up on them, so escape was out of the question. Bertrand killed anyone who directly attacked him, and did his best to defend others, but by the time the dust cleared, there was nobody left.

Augustin and Ciprian had been run through with a single sword, the pair of them turning to dust together, Clan Anghelescu's future reduced to ash. Their father had succumbed moments before, and the only consolation was that unlike Bertrand, the family had not had to watch as the children were trampled in the madness.

Bertrand sat among the ash and carved a second notch into his stake; he might not have killed these would-be Chosen Ones, but he had failed to protect them. He had had no duty to them, but now that they were gone he couldn't help but feel it was his fault.

  
  


Despite his attempts to tell the Council what had really happened, all the rest of the world saw was that two pretenders and their bloodline were dead, and that when the dust had cleared, only Bertrand du Fortunesa had been left standing.

 


End file.
